Her Covert Protector by Victoria Paige

3

Nadia hadn’t seenKen Huxley since the DHS investigation. She’d known he was making the ultimate ethical hacking device. Of course, ethical was just a way to market his invention to make it sound legal. Garrison was right. In the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage the likes of which would be hard to comprehend. Stealing classified information or taking down the power grid. Even water treatment plants were computerized nowadays. Nadia wasn’t up to date yet on the newest version of the Crown-Key. Ken had made millions around the world by selling his services and using the device to do it.

Case in point. He now lived in the penthouse of one of the swankiest buildings in LA. According to Garrison, he paid roughly thirty million dollars for this property. Nadia had seen pictures of him on society pages and with a new personal style suited to his success, giving up those garish glasses and opting for frameless spectacles. The Ken she used to know wore thick-lensed square glasses, had hair that had not seen a barber in months, and a fashion sense belonging in the nineties.

“You still okay doing this?” John whispered beside her. They were standing in front of a wall of glass mounted under stainless steel. The elevator doors glittered like stamped diamonds.

They hadn’t talked much on the ride here. Nadia sensed disapproval in the CIA officer’s body language, and she was sure it had everything to do with the way she was dressed.

“I was never okay with this deception,” Nadia replied out of the corner of her mouth. With his closeness, she could smell his cologne.

And it was nauseating.

“But as you’re always fond of saying, it’s for the greater good. And I’d feel better if I’m there when you make your case.” Her nose twitched. “And please don’t get too close to me. Did you pour the whole bottle on you?”

He grinned, leaning even closer. “It’s part of my disguise.”

“What? Making sure people give you a wide berth?”

“Just you watch.”

And she did.

As a crowd gathered around them, she noticed more than one woman ignoring their dates while edging closer to John.

“This elevator is taking too long,” one person in the lobby crowd said.

“That’s the problem with being fashionably late to Huxley’s parties that people live for,” another replied.

The elevator finally arrived, and everyone surged forward. Nadia was surprised when John put his arms loosely around her and guided her in. Somehow, he ended up at the back of the elevator with Nadia’s butt pressed against a part of his anatomy. As the elevator car started moving, she became aware of a hardness growing behind her.

She didn’t mean to squirm.

John’s fingers tightened around her arms.

“Stop moving that ass,” he hissed by her ear.

Goosebumps lifted on her nape and she shivered. Heat pulsed between her thighs causing her to squeeze them. But she had to move her legs because she was standing at an awkward angle … and she had to move her hips.

“Nadia,” he rasped. “If you don’t want me walking around with a hard on …”

His chest heaved in and out behind her. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. She stared at the numbers on the elevator.

Six more floors. The elevator made several stops, but as people got off, more would get in.

“Did he invite the whole fucking building?” Garrison derided.

By the time they arrived at the penthouse, Nadia felt feverish. It was a blessing when the elevator doors opened, and the throng of people dispersed.

John’s palm slipped into hers, and they walked out together hand-in-hand. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’ll live,” he grunted. “There’s a reason I memorize baseball stats.”

Speakers were blaring with the party already in full swing. A DJ was set up at the center of the penthouse in front of a stone column. Nadia spied Ken holding court in the living room. The whole penthouse had twenty-foot ceilings and wall-to-wall glass, treating everyone to a sweeping view of Los Angeles. Nadia identified with geeks like Ken who could talk endlessly about a topic they were passionate about. And the technology nerds? They were in one corner wishing they were somewhere else, but when you were invited by a tech messiah you aspired to emulate one day, making an appearance was a must. In a way, Ken Huxley was representative of the bullied demographic in high school. The ones who weren’t popular enough, the ones who were socially challenged when most of the focus was on the jocks and sports that would bring prestige to the school.

Good thing Stephen instilled in her the importance of an education. Nadia wasn’t one of the popular girls in high school, and it reminded her of the conversation with her dad earlier that evening. She was twelve when she found out the real circumstances surrounding their life in the U.S. The inciting incident triggered the importance of not calling attention to herself. Yet, after the danger had passed, Nadia couldn’t seem to shed the need to constantly reinvent herself with different looks. Cosplaying was a way to feed that need without seeming paranoid. As for her finding kinship with the nerds and geeks? Science and technology were her best way to assume control. Math and equations gave her finite solutions. She hated uncertainty, which was why she hated what happened in Mexico.

There were men walking around in khakis and black shirts, wires hanging around their necks or comms appliances stuffed in their ears. There were over half a dozen of them scattered all over the penthouse from what Nadia could see. A thread of anxiety tightened in her gut. She glanced up at John.

“Security,” he mouthed, then he nodded in Ken’s direction.

Nadia’s gaze followed his signal when her old friend spotted her, a smile splitting his face. Ken waved her over.

“Guess it’s showtime,” John said on their approach. Ken broke away from the people he was entertaining, and his eyes immediately flicked to Garrison before returning to her.

“Nadia, long time, no see.” Ken glanced at Garrison again. She shook her hand loose from John’s hold and stepped up to Ken to give him a hug.

“How’s my Lisbeth?” he asked.

“You’re still stuck on that nickname?” Nadia laughed.

“You’ll always be Lisbeth to me.” This time he gave John his full attention. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Garrison extended his arm. “Gian Ferraro.”

Slick. That way if Nadia accidentally called him John, with the noise levels here, it wouldn’t be an obvious mistake.

“Boyfriend, Lisbeth?”

“Just friends,” Nadia said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to chat with me. I didn’t want to show up alone, you know?”

Sympathy flashed across Ken’s face, and he lightly put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the group of people he was talking to earlier. “This is my design team. Any of them would hang on your every word. Just talk to them about the drones you use at the LAPD. Ladies and Gentlemen,” Ken said with flourish. “Let me introduce the lovely Nadia Powell.” A fond smile broke through his face. “My gaming pal and my Lisbeth … and oh.” He turned back to her. “Are you going to StreamCon this year?”

“You betcha,” Nadia replied. StreamCon was similar to ComicCon but for streaming networks. It was a big event for cosplaying.

“Oh, I’m going, too!” A young woman with bangs and squarish glasses bounced up to her. “Are you going in costume?”

“Of course.” Nadia grinned.

“I heard the Hodgetown cast has a panel.” Another of Ken’s computer engineers joined their conversation eagerly. “I’m going as a—”

“Now, Rupert,” Ken cut his employee off. “Let’s not monopolize Nadia’s time with StreamCon.”

“But you brought it up, boss,” Rupert argued.

“Because I know she likes to cosplay. I want to hear who she’s going to go as, not you,” Ken retorted and spun Nadia away from his tech horde. “Sorry about that.”

“Those are our people, Ken.” Nadia kept the smile on her face but couldn’t keep the ice from her voice.

“Always standing up for our kind, but …” he paused. “I want to catch up with you. I don’t want to hear about them because I spend my time with them day in and day out.”

Nadia barely understood his words because the music drowned out the chatter and that only made people speak louder. She was all too aware of the weight of Garrison’s stare burning a hole in her back. She also noticed that Ken’s security moved closer, but her friend waved them off.

“So, how has the infamous Homeland Security hacker been faring so far?” she asked.

“Doing well. I just came back from Hong Kong where I audited the infrastructure of a major bank.” Ken was almost yelling, and she could see his spittle flying.

Ew.

She surreptitiously inched away. “Must be exciting being so in demand.”

Her geeky friend laughed … well geekily. A sound she’d associated as a Woody Woodpecker laugh punctuated with snorts. On the old Ken, it was adorable, but somehow for a successful businessman, it was jarring.

“I have everyone who stood up for me during the investigation to thank for that,” he said with a smile.

She shot him an enraptured gaze. “So, tell me what your genius is up to now?”

Ken’s smile transformed from warm to sly. He stopped a server with a tray of drinks and grabbed a red, fruity cocktail. Nadia declined. Her liver didn’t agree well with alcohol and she frequently only drank at home where she could roll directly into bed.

“Gian?” Ken said politely.

“I’m good right now,” Garrison grunted.

Her friend took a sip of his drink. “Have you heard about my Crown-Key?”

“Vaguely. It came up last year during the SillianNet hack.” It was a wonder she said that with a straight face.

A genuine sadness came over Ken’s face. “That’s terrible. I’ve offered my services to them before. Is that why Thomas Brandt committed suicide? I heard your task force was on the case.”

“I can’t comment. You know that.” They’d ventured through an arched hallway and the sound of the music faded into a pounding bass.

“Wow.” Nadia glanced around.

“Special acoustics.” Ken stopped, casting a wary glance at Garrison. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“I’m here for her,” John responded.

“You can leave her with me now,” Ken said. “Why don’t you enjoy the open bar?” He waggled his brows. “And there are plenty of chicks that dig the seventies gangster look. Tony Montana, right?”

“I’m not channeling Tony Montana,” John bit out. “And I’m fine tagging wherever.”

Nadia turned away to stifle a smile. John shouldn’t be offended. He was in disguise anyway.

Ken exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “Well then, Nadia and I can’t go to my office where I want to show her my latest upgrade to the Crown-Key.” He grinned indulgently at her. “Geeks only allowed. And you, Mr. Ferraro, are not one.”

Two of his security guys appeared at the mouth of the hallway. That explained Ken’s renewed bravado. He hadn’t changed his taste in clothes, but they were higher quality—even designer—from the looks of them. He still wore flannel over a t-shirt and his beloved checkerboard slip-on sneakers. He’d traded his jeans for dark slacks. His unruly hair was tamed by pomade or gel. But underneath all those designer threads and new hairstyle lived the geek who still hated the jock. And, right now, Ken had the power, and he was relishing it.

Her gaze locked with Garrison’s. At this moment, if he approached Ken with his offer to put his company under Homeland Security, they’d be thrown out by his security detail.

Ken’s face lost its affability and turned cold. “Do we have a problem?” He glanced at Nadia. “Are you sure he’s just a friend?”

“Gian, I’ll be fine.” She slipped her arm into the crook of the tech millionaire’s arm. “Ken and I are old friends. I told you that.”

Nadia swore John’s right eye twitched. Dammit. This wasn’t exactly their playbook, so she was improvising. Without waiting for the CIA officer’s reply, she said, “Go grab a drink at the bar.” She glanced over her shoulder and winked. “Or like Ken said, a hot chick.”

Ken broke into his trademark laugh again, and it grated over her nerves but at least their whole operation hadn’t crashed and burned.

Yet.

* * *

“Whiskey. Neat.”

John needed a drink, and he needed one now. Otherwise, he’d rip Nadia away from that two-faced pen-test wonder boy. The second John met him, he didn’t buy his “aw, shucks” act one bit. Ken Huxley personally oversaw his company’s deal negotiations, including one with a Chinese conglomerate that was a financial powerhouse. He wouldn’t be intimidated by John with his security surrounding them, nor would Huxley’s ego pass up this opportunity to impress the girl.

The whiskey appeared and he tossed it back and asked for another.

He damned near swallowed his tongue when Nadia strutted out of her bedroom wearing a scrap of fabric she called a dress and fuck-me-boots that made his cock thicken. Her platinum hair cascaded over her creamy skin, reminding him how smooth it felt underneath his palms. Heavy liner accentuated her hazel eyes to almost tawny. She might be wearing contacts, but the effect was the same. He was sucked into their depths. The dark red shade she painted on her mouth invited him to devour her with a kiss. And what the hell was that twirl back in the apartment? Letting her skirt do a peekaboo, taunting him with the sight of her bare ass?

She was playing with fire, but maybe he was doing the same because John seriously questioned his plan to use her as a distraction. At that moment, his concentration was shot. He’d been hoping to exorcise his attraction to her once and for all, but once he set eyes on Nadia again, he recognized the futility of that attempt. It was a good thing Stephen Powell showed up when he did because John’s erection promptly deflated. But once Nadia met him outside her apartment, he had to try very hard not to wonder if she was wearing panties.

She clearly wasn’t wearing a bra.

The ride to Huxley’s penthouse was pure torture.

The ride up the elevator was heaven in hell.

John kept a grip on her shoulders when what his fingers itched to do was slide under her skirt, rub her clit, and finger fuck her until she’d come against him in an elevator full of people.

It would be so easy with how short her skirt was, so easy to slide down that strap and cup her naked tit.

He sat up when visions of Huxley pawing Nadia assailed his thoughts, of that son of a bitch chasing her around the office with his zipper down, and his dick in hand, wanting to thrust it into her pussy.

Fuck this.

Nadia going in there alone wasn’t even close to the game plan. If it were, he would have suggested she wear a wire. He was not down with that at all. He was crashing into that room and yanking her out of there. To hell with the consequences.

Another drink appeared in front of him. He tossed that back too and sprinted back to the hallway that led to the millionaire’s office.

Two of Huxley’s security guys ran past him and headed the same way.

Fuck.

He quickened his steps but was blocked by security before he cleared the hallway.

“You’re leaving with me, Mr. Ferraro.”

“Not without—”

“Don’t touch me!” Nadia’s yell echoed from inside the room framed by open double-doors.

Before the security man in front of him could react, John punched him across the face and cracked his head against his knee.

Nadia appeared at the open door, two more of Huxley’s security clutching her on either arm. “Let me go! I’ll walk out on my own.”

“Throw her out of here,” Ken said from behind her and then spying John, he scowled. “I should have known better. You’re a Fed, aren’t you?”

John stalked toward them. “Get your hands off her …”

“Or what?” Ken challenged as he nodded to one of the men holding Nadia. That man pulled a gun and aimed it at John. “You’re on my property. Invited, but now I’m uninviting both of you.”

Nadia turned to Ken. “You don’t know what danger you’re in. Look what happened to Brandt.”

“Please,” Ken scoffed. “You know the chatter on the dark web is that Thomas Brandt was responsible for the SillianNet mess last year. Someone probably took him out.” He glanced at John. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the government since it affected several institutions including the Justice Department, and the Office of Personnel Management. Now there’s a big leak. Every single background check of every person who worked for the government is stored in there. That’s what the government should be worrying about, not me—a man who makes an honest living by helping companies improve their security.”

The man had a point, but it didn’t lessen the urge to wipe his smug expression on the floor, especially with Nadia looking so agitated.

“I’m not going to repeat myself,” John said evenly. “Get your fucking hands off her.”

“Or what?” The security challenged with a laugh.

John probably didn’t look intimidating with his gold chains and his dark unbuttoned shirt, looking like a disco-era has-been. But he knew the background of every man in Huxley’s security detail, and the one who would have given him the most trouble was unconscious.

Now this man with the gun, who he’d nicknamed Dumb and the guy on Nadia’s right he’d called Dumber, both barely passed Basic and had hardly seen any action when they were deployed. Besides, John could easily read them.

He advanced a step.

“John,” Nadia admonished.

Go ahead and struggle, sweetheart. Now is when I need the distraction.

“Stay back, Mr. Ferraro.” Dumb’s hand holding the gun wavered.

Another step. He hated that alias. It was pretentious.

It did serve his purpose. On his third step, and when he was within reaching distance of Dumb’s gun, Dumber went for his weapon too.

“Stop it!” Nadia squirmed.

Without taking his eyes off Dumb’s alarmed ones, John deftly slapped the barrel to the left with his right hand, and with his other, yanked it forward while disarming and unloading the magazine. Before Dumb could react, he elbowed him square on his face, and blood splattered, making him release his hold on Nadia. John grabbed her arm and yanked her forward while Dumber still fumbled with his weapon, giving him an opening to kick him above the knee.

Dumber collapsed to the ground.

By this time, John had Nadia behind him and backed away with her.

Ken stared at him open-mouthed and then at his crew who were groaning on the ground.

Another three security men rushed in with weapons drawn. The one John knocked out in the hallway staggered after them.

“We’re leaving,” John said. This would have ended more civilly if they hadn’t put their hands on Nadia. “I gave you all fair warning to let her go.”

“I wasn’t going to let them harm her,” Ken protested. “I just don’t like being deceived.” He glared at Nadia. “I knew working for the LAPD would corrupt you. Now you’re like everyone in the government.”

“Think this through, Ken,” she implored. John had moved them around the perimeter, never taking his eyes off Huxley’s men.

“Get out of here,” the tech millionaire demanded.

He wrapped his arms around Nadia, and moved her along, keeping her shielded as they left Huxley’s penthouse.